“I’m going to change,” Gemma murmured, and stepped into the bedroom. Although when she crossed the threshold, it was hard not to remember the way her bed had looked with Chev’s big bronze body sprawled across its width. She closed her eyes against the erotic images and untied the belt on her coat.
“Can I watch?” he asked from directly behind her.
When she turned, he was standing in the doorway, one hand braced on either side. The hunger in his eyes ignited a fire in her midsection that threatened to consume her. She slowly unbuttoned her coat, then allowed it to fall and puddle around her feet.
A guttural noise sounded from his throat and his hands tightened around the door facing.
He wanted to touch her, but she appreciated his restraint. He knew how much pleasure she derived from him watching her. The anticipation was such a rush, Gemma felt lightheaded.
She unhooked the top button on her blouse to reveal a glimpse of cleavage and a lacy see-through bra. She was rewarded with his slow exhalation and the growing bulge behind the zipper of his jeans.
Then a foreign noise cut through the haze. Chev turned his head and straightened, a frown passing over his face. And before she could ask what was wrong, another man appeared in the doorway, his body language explosive, his eyes wide and bewildered.
Gemma’s heart nearly stopped. “Jason?”
17
GEMMA’S MIND CHUGGED to process the surreal scene. Her ex-husband stood in the doorway of her bedroom in a dark, elegant suit, frowning back and forth between her and Chev. In his hand he gripped a bouquet of white lilies—her favorite, she registered vaguely.
“Gemma, what’s going on?” Jason gestured to her outfit in dismay. “What are you wearing? And who the hell is this man?”
She opened her mouth, but no words seemed forthcoming.
Chev stepped forward. “Wait a minute, buddy. You’re the one who just waltzed in as if this was your house.”
Jason’s head snapped back. “This is my house, buddy.” Then he looked at Gemma. “The doorbell isn’t working.”
“The electricity is off,” she murmured. Not exactly the first words she thought she’d utter when she saw Jason again. She glanced down and realized her bra was showing, then hastily refastened the button. “This is Chev. He’s…fixing the air conditioner.”
The men sized each other up. They were about the same height. Chev had twice the bulk, and Jason, twice the attitude. Testosterone bounced around the confined space like rounds fired from a weapon. Gemma felt claustrophobic and sick, unsure of what was about to transpire.
“Are you almost finished here?” Jason asked Chev, nodding toward the open mechanical closet.
Chev’s jaw hardened. “Yeah, I’m almost finished.”
“Good,” Jason said, eyeing the man suspiciously. Then he looked at Gemma. “I’m sure you’d like to change. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
She exchanged an unreadable glance with Chev, then closed the bedroom door and hurriedly changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Her stomach was knotted with nerves, and her hands shook. The shock of seeing Jason again, seeing him toe to toe with Chev, left her breathless and confused. Why was Jason here? And how did she feel about him being here?
She breathed deeply to calm her racing pulse, but when she emerged, she still felt flustered. Chev was standing in front of the breaker box, flipping switches, his expression stony. Zone by zone, the electricity came back on, lights and appliances buzzed to life. Then he went to the wall thermostat and adjusted the temperature until the air conditioner clicked on. He reached up to hold his hand over a vent and grunted. “Cool air.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist and made herself smile. “Thank you.”
He leveled his dark gaze on her, then nodded curtly. “You’re welcome. Now you don’t have to worry about opening your windows.”
Humiliation stained her cheeks. She swallowed past a tight throat but couldn’t respond.
He leaned over and picked up the toolbox, the tattoo on his arm jumping. “I’ll see you around.”
She followed him downstairs where Jason stood like a sentinel watching Chev. Jason reached into his inside jacket pocket and withdrew his wallet. “What do I owe you?”
Mortification bled through her. “Jason—”
Chev glanced at the wad of cash her ex held. “It’s already been taken care of.” He looked back at Gemma and pursed his mouth, then opened the front door and walked out, leaving it open. When Gemma went to close it, she caught sight of his back receding, his shoulders taut. And she got the same empty feeling in her stomach that she’d felt before.
“Is that the neighbor guy your mother saw you with?”
Gemma closed the door and turned to face Jason. His pale blue eyes burned with…jealousy? The injustice of the situation sent anger galloping through her. “That’s none of your business, Jason. And for the record, this is my house, remember? And why are you talking to my mother behind my back?”
“She called me. She was concerned about you.”
“She doesn’t need to be.”
“Really? What’s with the skimpy outfit you were wearing?”
Gemma frowned. “It’s a costume. For a legitimate job.”
He picked up the black mask from the counter next to where he’d laid the sheath of flowers. “What kind of a legitimate job requires a disguise?”
A flush climbed her neck. “It’s only temporary.”
“You got that right.” He held up his cell phone. “Lewis Wilcox, the news reporter who dogged me during my entire campaign, sent a couple of photos to my phone this morning.”
The tone of his voice alone was enough to cause her heartbeat to accelerate. When she glanced at the small screen, her worst fears were confirmed. It was her, leading a museum tour in the red skirt and white bustier, holding one of the primitive dildos. She was masked, of course, but the next photo was a close-up that clearly showed the beauty mark next to her mouth.
“I took a job as a tour guide at the museum.”
“For an X-rated exhibit? What were you thinking?”
She moistened her lips, trying to keep the panic at bay. “I was thinking that I needed to take what I could get and work my way up. I was careful to use my maiden name on the application. I was told that the identity of all of the tour guides would be kept confidential for security reasons.”
One side of his mouth slid back. “If Wilcox thought it was you, all he had to do was look for your car in the parking lot and run the plates.”
Alarms sounded in her head. “Why would he send these photos to you?”
“Blackmail. He said he’d go public with the fact that you work the exhibit unless I gave him details of the drug case I’m prosecuting.”
“I thought a gag order was in place.”
“That’s right.”
Her eyes filled with sudden tears, realizing the precarious situation she had put him in. Full-blown panic flooded her limbs. “I’m sorry, Jason. I never meant for this to happen.”
To her surprise, he put his arms around her and made soothing noises. “Don’t cry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She leaned into him and inhaled his familiar scent, recognized the familiar planes of his lean body. He lowered a kiss on her hair and tightened his grip.
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said, his voice breaking.
Gemma pulled back cautiously. “What do you mean?”
His expression was contrite and she was astonished to see tears in his eyes, as well. She had never seen Jason moved. “I made a mistake. I want us to try again.”
Gemma saw stars. “What?”
He loosened his tie—one that she’d lovingly selected for his last campaign. “I’m an idiot. I had the world’s greatest, most beautiful wife, and I messed it up.”
Salve to her wounds, to be sure, but she was wary of his apology. “You said our marriage wasn’t working for you anymore.”
Jason shook his head and paced a few steps. “I mistook comfortable for monotony. I realize now that we were just going through a slump after the craziness of the election.” He stopped pacing and pulled her into his arms. “I want you back, Gemma.” He lowered his mouth to hers for the kind of kiss that she’d yearned for from her husband for as long as she could remember…a hot, intense meeting of tongues and teeth, with body language to match. He ran his hands down her back and pulled her hips against his, making the little grunting noises that she knew meant he was getting turned-on.
Gemma’s mind reeled, but the seriousness of the situation kept her senses in check. She pulled back and walked away from him to lean against the breakfast bar and regain her composure. “Jason, I don’t know what to think. This is just…so sudden.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m just now getting past the hurt. Starting over.”
“With that guy?” Jason asked, jerking his head in the direction Chev had gone.
“Chev has been a gentleman. A good friend, who helped me when I needed it most.” Helped her feel desirable again.
Jason pulled his hand down his face and suddenly looked tired. “It’s my fault. I should’ve never moved to Tallahassee without you.”